Lover of the Light
by thebarefootflapper
Summary: After the storm, the sun must rise and the darkness come to an end - Following their clandestine marriage in the autumn of 1914, Sybil must battle her demons and put the past behind her if she and Tom are to face the undoubtedly turbulent future ahead of them. It will be hard, but at least she's no longer alone and nor will she ever be again. Sequel to "After the Storm"


_**This is a sequel of sorts to my previous story "After the Storm" which was written as a fic war prompt over on Tumblr from The Yankee Countess. It was one of the most challenging things I'd ever had to write on account of the subject matter, but the way it was received has encouraged me to continue with this story arc. "Lover of the Light" was originally supposed to be a contribution to Smut Weekend Part Deux but I fell out with fandom around then and just couldn't carry on. Anyway, I've found my muse again (I hope) and managed to carry on - it's much longer than I anticipated so will come in about two or three parts (Sybil might also come in two or three parts if Tom has anything to do with it). I do recommend reading "After the Storm" first but must warn you that it does contain some dark subject matter though I hope you'll be able to get through it just to see the resolution (I don't seem to be able to write light hearted and fluffy Sybil/Tom fics anymore). Lastly, big thanks once again to The Yankee Countess who wrote a small snippet of this chapter just to help get my creative juices flowing and for encouraging me to carry on when I was ready to throw in the towel. Enjoy and please let me know what you think :) x**_

* * *

It was pure chance that they found themselves in Scotland really. The family were debating whether or not to make the trip this year, what with the war and the upheaval that they'd already begun to face mere weeks after its declaration. Matthew was adamant that he was going, but both Mary and his mother were trying to persuade him to hold off until after Christmas (nobody was foolish enough to believe that it would be over by then) , or at least wait until they were married. It had been their intention to announce their engagement at the garden party but, in the grand scheme of things, it hadn't really seemed appropriate. Little did anyone know, another of the three Crawley girls was deeply in love, though she doubted her family would be as pleased about her choice of beau. Whilst Sybil disapproved of the war, she had to thank her lucky stars when she learnt that the Flintshire's chauffeur had signed up to the army at the first available opportunity and the fact that her own family had numerous social engagements lined up across the country over the coming month meant that Tom would be required to travel north with them. Of course though, once they had arrived in Scotland, the couple found that it was even more difficult than it ever had been at Downton to steal a moment alone together.

"I'm exhausted," says Tom one evening, his head resting in Sybil's lap after she'd managed to sneak out of the house to see him. "With many already gone, things have been left in a bit of a mess and they've really been putting me through my paces. It's alright for you, you're here on holiday."

Sybil laughs and soothingly combs her fingers through his hair. "This is hardly my idea of a holiday," she says. "Like you, I'm not really doing anything different that I would do at home and you know how frustrating I find that most of the time."

Tom nods - they live very different lives, but their mutual desire to search for something more was one of the many things that had brought them together. "Still," he says. "I suppose there's that ball on Saturday; I know how much you love to dance."

"I'll love it even more if I can dance with you," she replies. "Please say you'll come."

"I'm not sure..."

"Please," she begs. "We keep complaining that we don't spend anywhere near enough time together. This is one of the few opportunities where we'll actually be allowed in the same room as each other and nobody can ask any questions."

He sits up and turns to face her then, noticing that look in her eyes that he's powerless to resist. "Fine," he sighs. "I'll come."

It's worth it just to see her smile...

-xxx-

He finds her outside, staring up at the cloudless sky and mapping out the constellations that glitter like the diamonds fastened around her neck.

"I thought I'd find you here."

She looks at him and smiles, her hand reaching out for his as he steps towards her. "It was quite warm, I needed some air," she replies. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Tom nods. "I am, surprisingly," he replies. "More than I thought I would. Though I think much of it is down to the fact that you look very fine."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Branson," Sybil chides, trying to conceal her smirk.

He laughs and pulls her close. "It's not flattery when it's the truth," he says. "But it has got me thinking... I've had an idea and tonight has made me realise that it's a good one." He takes a deep breath and squeezes her hands tightly. "I think we should get married."

Sybil looks back at him in utter shock. "What?"

"I know it's only been a matter of weeks, but I completely adore you, Sybil. There's gossip in the servant's hall, both here and back at Downton, about your sister and Mr Matthew. Personally, I'm on the side that thinks him a fool for not marrying Lady Mary now while he has the chance. Someone said the other day that they should just whisk run away to Gretna Green and be done with it..."  
"Mary would never agree to that," Sybil tells him, though a part of her can't help but think he's right. "She won't marry without all the pomp and circumstance befitting the wedding of an Earl's daughter."

"No, but you might."

"Tom?"

"Think about it!"

"I am," she replies. "And it's absurd... it's utter madness. If my secret ever got out, I'd be ruined. I already am to some extent and there's a tiny part of me that's questioning whether or not you're only proposing to me now to try and do the noble thing and save me from a lifetime of spinsterhood and scandal."

Tom shakes his head, not quite able to believe what he's hearing. "My darling, if you marry me then there'll be enough scandal as it is. You're not ruined, you're not fallen... you did nothing wrong or to be ashamed of. Has it not occurred to you that the reason I'm asking you to marry you is because I love you?"

Sybil nods. "Yes," she replies almost tearfully. "It was my first thought, actually... I love you too. It's just that... what happened that night isn't something I'm ever going to forget. I'm scared that it'll shape my future as much as my past."

"I'm scared too," he says, cupping her face in his hands and brushing away her tears with his thumbs. "I'm scared of what's going to happen to us. There's not a chance in hell that I'd ever run off to join the war of my own volition, but I just know that someday, somehow, someone is going to try and take me away from you. If I marry you and that happens, at least I'll have known what it truly means to be happy. If not, then we'll have a lifetime together..."

She kisses him then, catching him completely by surprise.

"Is that a yes?" he asks as they pull apart.

"Ask me properly."

"Sybil Crawley, will you do me the honour of..."

"Sybil!" a voice calls out in the darkness, unmistakably that of her mother. "Sybil, are you out here?"

"I'm here, Mama," says Sybil, stepping into view of the house. "I wasn't feeling very well. Branson found me and was kind enough to stay with me until I felt better."

Cora looks from her youngest to the chauffeur standing slightly behind her. "Is this true, Branson?"

"It is, your ladyship," he replies, falling effortlessly back into the role of the dutiful servant.

"Well, thank you. Now, Sybil, there's a charming young Laird looking to dance with you. Should I tell him you've gone up already?"

Sybil shakes her head. "No, Mama, I'll be there in just a moment."

Satisfied, Cora returns back inside leaving Sybil and Tom alone in the garden once more. "Best to keep up appearances just for the time being," she says mournfully. "But my answer is yes... a thousand times, yes."

"I love you."

"I love you too, my darling," she replies, giving his hand one last squeeze. "To the moon and back."

**_-xxx-_**

In the end, it's all too easy.

During the last few days of her stay at Duneagle, Sybil receives an invitation to visit one of the girls she came out with earlier in the summer. The family travel down to Edinburgh to see out the end of September, an old army friend of Robert's having written to say that he is back in the city and would very much like to see the Crawleys again. It's from there that Sybil and Tom make their escape under the guise that she will be spending a couple of days as a guest of the Honourable Miss Victoria Ferguson. It's not entirely a lie - the Ferguson's home is only about twenty miles or so from Gretna Green and so the plan is that Sybil will indeed attend Victoria's birthday ball, only to elope with Tom just before dawn.

It's only in the car, sitting in the front by his side as she's longed to do for so long, that the doubts begin to creep in. She could never regret marrying him, not for a single second - but just the way they're doing it doesn't feel right. She's not even sure which part of her brain is the rational side anymore, for the conflicting voices she's hearing in her head each have a point. Sybil hates the deceit, but she knows that this is their only hope if they want to be together. As he said, someday something will inevitably try to separate them - at least this way they can face whatever the future throws at them together.

Once again, he briefly takes his eyes off the road and asks her if she's alright.

And, of course, the answer is yes.

**_-xxx-_**

Fewer lies are told than either of them had anticipated and they get the impression that they're not the strangest of couples to have sought a clandestine marriage in this part of the world. Only the most necessary of questions are asked and it's evident that the upmost discretion is observed. It's quite an understated, but completely perfect nonetheless and so, at last, they are married.

Mr and Mrs Tom Éoghan Branson.

As the hours pass, the rest of the world fades into nothingness - there is nothing or nobody but each other, basking in the glory of their new status as husband and wife. The proprietors of the local inn lavish them with food and drink, even being so kind as to share a toast with the couple and regale them of stories of their own life together and their secrets for a long and happy marriage. It's only then does the reality of the situation start to hit Sybil in that there is still one last obstacle to overcome if she's ever truly going to chase away her demons...

The wedding night.

Finally, in a room above the inn, they are left alone at last, just the two of them… the Lady and the Chauffeur. Except they're not anymore - he is Tom and she is Sybil.

Mrs Sybil Branson.

She's a married woman now - well, almost. There's still that bridge to cross, and while Tom had assured her, multiple times, that they didn't have to do anything, Sybil finds herself at a crossroads. She was nervous; what if she wasn't good? Tom had revealed to her that he had been with women before her, even though he was also quick to explain that that was before he met her…and lost his heart to her. But still…what if she disappoints him? And what if all those cautionary tales about blood and pain and duty were true? What if she doesn't like it?

But, on the other hand, what if she does? What if she loves it? Her first kiss had been horrible, but then Tom had kissed her and now she knows how wonderful kissing can be. And she never wanted him to stop kissing her, so maybe she wouldn't want him to stop this either? Despite her nervousness, she was truly curious if those things that she had read once in books (secret books her parents and sisters would frown upon if they saw them) were true? She had experienced some of them that night, but she's not even sure that it really counts - she had been intoxicated and not really in control of anything. He hadn't forced himself on her, not in so many words, but, if what Tom says is right, the handsome Turk had taken advantage of her whilst she was in a vulnerable situation - she'd had a bit too much wine (or so everyone though, for nobody - not even Sybil - had learnt the truth about what had been slipped into her drink) and she'd been feeling low and insecure. Those things had happened, a part of her had wanted those things to happen, but that still didn't make it right. She deserved better - someone who would love her and make her feel special.

Someone like Tom.

She stared at her reflection, now in her undergarments and corset, the white summer dress she'd worn the day of the garden party - the day they'd first kissed and the world as they knew it changing forever - lying on the ground. A light knock sounded on the lavatory door.

"Sybil?"

Her dear husband; was he worried for her? She closes her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opens the door while she still had the nerve.

"Tom, will you help me unlace my corset please?" she asks, her head peeking out from around the door. He's standing there in just his trousers and undershirt, braces hanging loosely at his sides and his feet bare. He looks so natural, so beautiful, and she can't believe that he is hers.

"You'll have to come out here, love," he smiles. "I don't think there's much room for us both in there."

"You'd be surprised, actually," she replies. "Though I think it might be... comfier... out her." She's not sure why, but she finds herself blushing as she steps out of the bathroom and takes hold of his outstretched hand.

He takes in the sight of her then - his wife. His beautiful, beautiful wife. Her long hair is loose about her shoulders and down her back, she looks so natural and almost free - that fancy gown tossed aside like the threads of her old life. He offers out his hand to her, spinning her under his arm much in the same way he had when they'd danced together at the Gillie's ball back at Duneagle what feels like a lifetime ago now. Finally, with her back to him, he can set about loosening the ties. Satisfied, Sybil's trembling hands make work of the clasps around the front and, together, they make quick work of freeing her from the tight confines of the corset. He catches her by surprise then sweeping her up off her feet and carrying her across the small room to the bed, placing her down upon the sheets and suddenly feeling guilty for not giving her something more worthy of the goddess that she is.

"I wish it could be different," he says quietly, gazing down at her with a look of sadness in his eyes. "I wish I could have whisked you away to some fancy hotel in London, to the south of France or somewhere just as exotic. I don't regret it, not a single second of it... but you deserve so much more than... **this**." He waves a hand around, gesturing to the room that they've ended up in.

Sybil sits up and takes his face in her hands. "Tom, darling, look at me," she says. "I don't know about deserving anything, but what I want is **you**. Our wedding was perfect and even if we'd married in Westminster Abbey in the presence of the king himself, it couldn't have been more so..."

"I don't think I'd like your king at my wedding."

She laughs and kisses his forehead. "That sounds more like you," she teases. "Now stop thinking about what you think should have been and focus on what actually **is**!"

"As my lady wishes," he replies, dropping his head to her shoulder and planting feather light kisses to her collarbone. "God, I love you so much... I can't believe that this has actually happened."

"I know, me neither, and I love you too," she tells him. "But... Tom..."

"What?"

"I'm scared."

He looks into her eyes then and knows exactly what she means - he could never forget the confession that she'd made to him in the garage all those weeks ago concerning that bastard Turk, but he'd been flying so high that he selfishly hadn't stopped to consider the effect that that might have on her on tonight of all nights.

"Oh my love," he sighs. "Don't be... we'll just take this one step at a time."


End file.
